by Lyssa Layne
“Fuck you, too.”
“Are you going to survive this barbecue or what?”
I sigh. “Well, I’m not going to die if that’s what you’re asking.” The sound of an engine coming to life startles me. “Are you in the car?”
“Obviously. Stay in the freezer. I’ll be there to pull you out in ten.” Then she hangs up. I follow her advice and stay put, only flipping myself over from time to time in order to cool the burning parts of me evenly.
Thankfully, no one comes looking for me before Sketch slinks her way into the garage through the side door.
“Good God, what are you wearing?” Clad in black from head to toe, wearing a turtleneck and skinny jeans paired with her usual combat boots, she looks even more ridiculous for Fourth of July than I do.
“I was over at the country club when you called. Consider yourself lucky. This was going to be the year I was willing to subject even uptight Aunt Marie-Beth to all your work. Can you imagine the look on Ol’ Robbie’s face if I had shown up in something as revealing as a tank top?” She snickers. The image brings a smile to my face as well. As much as I have come to terms with Pru, I’ll never quite understand her attraction to him.
“Country Club, huh? I thought after your parents’ anniversary party there you were banned for good.”
She shrugs. “My mother went in there crying about how I was the only child she had left. When that didn’t work, she made a hefty donation to renovate some part of that stodgy place and the ban was lifted.”
“Magic.”
She smirks. “Yep.” She reaches out, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. “I think it’s safe for you to step out of the freezer.”
“Are you sure.” I lean my ass toward the chill one last time.
“Your lips are turning blue, so yeah, pretty damn sure.” She tugs me by the arm and slams the freezer door shut behind me.
“Wait!” I reach back, “I was supposed to be in here getting ice. I can’t go back out there without it now. How would that look?”
Sketch snorts. “About as sane as showing up with it half an hour after you left will.”
She’s got a point.
Each of us carrying a bag of the frozen cubes, we find our way back through the house and out to the party. There’s considerably more people here now than there were when I left, and several of them are in the pool, Lucas included. Bastard.
I watch Sketch scanning the area in search of the one among many attendees who’s the cause of my crisis. As soon as she spots him in the water, a wicked grin flashes over her face.
“Well, your taste has improved since the last dude, I can tell you that much,” she mumbles out of the corner of her mouth.
“Shut. Up.”
Pru is already coming toward us, her usual welcoming smile directed at Sketch. She’s always had a ‘the more the merrier’ way about looking at things.
“So that’s where you disappeared to! Stella, so good to see you.” Stella. I haven’t heard anyone call her that since…well, I guess since the last time we met Pru for coffee at The Percolator.
“Hey, Pru. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your party.”
“Never! Come on, come on. Let’s get that ice where it belongs before it melts.” She leads the way toward the bar. Her nephew Jordan is busy taking a personal interest in tending to everyone’s drinks, much to the frustration of the actual bartender. I’ve yet to decide whether Jordan is motivated by the prospect of meeting every woman on her way to getting liquored up, or is simply making a preemptive move to stay close to the booze himself. Hard to say really. Either way, I have to note that he’s older than Lucas and yet I’d still find the idea of him and me laughable. Of course, he could be any age and I’d still never find him attractive. He’s just not my type. At all. Probably because he looks just like Rob, which I guess begs the question, who the hell does Lucas take after?
As soon as Jordan sets us up with two margaritas, Sketch and I are on our way again, Pru already having ditched us to go play hostess with another set of guests who walked in just as we were handing over the ice bags.
“Well, I’m suddenly having a much clearer understanding of your predicament.” Sketch is staring right at him, and unlike me, she’s not making any efforts to hide it.
I purposely stand with my back toward the pool. “Can we talk about something that isn’t going to make me want to run straight for the freezer again?”
She smirks. “We can talk about whatever the hell you like. I don’t think the conversation’s going to be a problem as much as the view.”
“Turn around. It’ll solve the problem.”
She does but she’s grinning from ear to ear. “Not for long.”
I’m about to ask her why when I can smell it. His damn cologne. Only now it’s mixed with the distinct scent of chlorine.
“Glad to see you’re still here. I was starting to think maybe I scared you off.” The way his breath sweeps over the back of my neck sends a shower of shivers down my spine.
I force myself to spin around, only it’s with so much gusto, I nearly land with my face on his perfectly bare chest.
“I haven’t been scared of boys since I was in kindergarten and kicked Brandon Heller in the balls after he pulled my hair.”
Sketch barely even tries to keep a straight face. “She still does that by the way.”
Lucas grins. “I’ll keep that in mind. No hair pulling.”
As if he’s not standing close enough as it is, he reaches right between us to grab a towel from the shelf behind us. Had I been more aware of my surroundings, I might have noticed I was blocking his path to being dry, and moved. Meanwhile, I was too busy assuming he was over here for me. Again. Talk about ego.
I fight the urge to bury my face in my hands and instead keep them locked on Sketch. Or I try anyway. I fail because her eyes are glued to Lucas’s backside. I know this since mine automatically followed her gaze, and then dropped of their own accord when hers stayed up.
“You ever think about getting that fixed?”
I forcefully pry my eyes from the view they’re so enjoying to look up in time to be at more appropriate levels when Lucas turns to face us again.
“Fix what?”
Sketch points toward his shoulder. “That tat on your back; the way it’s distorted and missing in parts from the scarring. She could totally fix that for you.” She thumbs in my direction as she says it.
Lucas nods thoughtfully. “I’ve thought about it.”
“It’s part of a set,” I say, realizing I’ve seen it before. I covered one that looked just like it a while back.
He stares back at me blankly, as if I’ve just announced I walk on the moon when I’m not standing around his mother’s house.
“It is. My buddy and I got them at the same time. Night before I enlisted.”
“Memphis. I know. I fixed his for him a couple of years ago.” I force the memory to the back of my mind. It means something different all of a sudden. Knowing Lucas had the other one, that he was the reason Memphis came to see me that night.
A slow smile spreads over his face. My guess is some things are clicking for him right about now as well. It’s weird, how much we don’t know about each other’s lives when they’re so closely intertwined, but then Lucas made it a point to remain distant while he was gone. Pru complained about it all the time. If he wasn’t calling home to ask about any of them, he definitely wasn’t inquiring about my life.
Sketch opens her mouth. She’s not done discussing Lucas and his destroyed tattoo yet, although I notice she’s not going anywhere near how Memphis ties us all together.
“Seriously though. You should come by the shop. One of us is there all the time.”
We exchange a glance, acknowledging the obvious. “Well, except for today.”
With both of us having family obligations, I had no choice but to leave Princess in charge. This morning I thought that would be at the top of possible regrets by the end of the d
ay. Now I’m thinking calling Sketch for help may wind up topping that.
Lucas
I reach out my hand to the woman clad in black who has just given me the golden ticket to one on one time with Olivia. “Good to see you again, by the way.”
She shakes it and smirks. “Yeah. I bet.”
Olivia shoots daggers at her, and I feel compelled to duck just to make sure I’m not in the line of fire. Sketch seems unfazed though. In fact, she doesn’t react to much of anything until Madi comes flying up behind her and wraps both arms around her neck.
“Sketch! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Surprise.” She waves her hands around in mock celebration.
“Aunt Liv make you come?” Madi sends a pitiful glance in her aunt’s general direction. Olivia responds by remaining completely aloof as if this conversation isn’t even taking place.
“Nah, she just saved me from Country Club hell.” Sketch turns her attention back on me. “Seriously, though. Come by the shop. We fix pieces like that a lot for veterans. And not that I imagine money’s much of an issue for you, but we do it for free.” She shrugs. “Our small way of saying thanks.”
I nod. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.” I’m about to ask Liv when the best time would be to come by when I hear my dad call my name and turn to see what he wants. He’s waving me over to meet some seriously uptight looking couple in their fifties. I assume he deems them highly influential and just the sort of people who could pave the way for me in politics. He’s been shoving everything from old money to new business to congressmen and former Mayors down my throat all day, prepping me for that glorious moment when I show up to work at his office, ready to be the next elected prince in a long line of politicians. I’m on the fence still as to whether or not that moment will ever come. I’m not opposed to the idea of working for my country, supporting my community. I wouldn’t have joined the army if those ideals weren’t appealing to me, but this is different. This is business. Family business. And my father’s not so secret wish that I’ll someday welcome him in for family Thanksgiving dinner at the White House is nowhere near my list of aspirations.
“Guess you’re being summoned.” Madi smiles, tilting her head to the side. Even she’s taking pity on me.
“Guess so.” I don’t smile back, not even at Liv. I don’t need to give Madi and the girls any more ammunition to humiliate me with in regard to my attraction to a woman I so don’t stand a chance with. And yet, I can’t give it up. My stupid boyhood crush has morphed into something way bigger than I ever could have imagined. And now I have but one choice: making her mine.
Whether it’s intentional or not, Liv and I don’t cross paths again the rest of the party, but that doesn’t stop me from following through on taking Sketch up on her offer and showing up at their shop first thing the next day.
When I walk in, I’m instantly greeted by wild colors and loud music. Art of all themes and genres covers the walls and every piece of furniture seems like a one of a kind item. I’m still taking it all in when a woman’s voice rings out over the music.
“Welcome to Pink.”
I turn toward the left to find a large reception desk and two women standing behind it. Both are covered in ink from head to toe and are definitely a few years younger than Olivia and Sketch. While the one on the right is wearing a knee length skirt and high heels with bright red lipstick and a long brown ponytail down her back, the other is wearing ripped jeans and a barely there tank with short blonde hair she’s got tossed up on her head Johnny Bravo style. She’s the one talking to me.
“Do you have an appointment?”
I can’t tell if it’s because she’s yelling at me across the room over the music or if it’s just her abrasive nature, but there’s an edge to her tone that already tells me this one’s got a scary side.
“Not exactly.” I walk up to the desk so neither of us has to shout. “I’m here to see Olivia.”
Female Johnny Bravo exchanges a look with the tattooed Audrey Hepburn, both of whom smirk when they turn their attention back on me.
Still staring me square in the eyes, the blonde shouts out, “Hey Sketch. There’s some guy here to see O-li-vi-a.” She elongates every syllable dramatically as she says her name and I get the distinct feeling there’s an inside joke happening here I’m not privy to.
When I turn my head, I can see Sketch’s black hair slightly bobbing up and down behind the four paneled room divider used to separate their work stations.
“Heartbreaker’s out back dealing with dipshit. She’ll be back in a sec.” Her head tips back allowing her to peer over the edge. “Hey, Lucas.”
“Hi, Sketch.” I wave, feeling like an idiot. Never in my life have I been as intimidated as I am right at this moment, and I’ve been to war.
I’m about to go take my seat in the corner across the room, as far away from these women as possible, when Audrey Hepburn decides it’s her turn to chime in.
“So, how do you know Heartbreaker?”
Somehow telling her she’s friends with my mom isn’t the answer I want to go with. Nor do I want to mention that her niece is my cousin.
“Uh, we have mutual…people.”
Johnny Bravo snorts. “Kinky.”
“He’s Pru’s kid,” Sketch fills them in, and I can actually feel myself turn red. I don’t think that’s happened since I was twelve.
Meanwhile, this information seems to entertain the scary blonde even more. “You’re the avocado!” Her gaze runs up and down my body in slow motion and I feel uncomfortably naked. Being so blatantly objectified is a new experience for me. “I don’t know what her problem is. You look plenty ripe to me.” Her eyebrow arches as her tongue slides seductively over her lower lip. She’s not really hitting on me though. She’s taunting me. Fucking with my head because she can probably smell the fear as it oozes out of me.
“Um, if nicknames are like a thing here, can we address mine? I’d just as soon not be known as ‘The Avocado’ from this day forward. Also, if I have a choice, I’d prefer not to wind up with something in the way of ‘Dipshit’ either.”
Johnny Bravo chuckles, reaching her hand out to pat my chest. “Calm down there, lady killer. You’ve gotta come around more than once before we care enough to name you.”
“So, Dipshit comes around a lot?” I try to make it sound casual, but the truth is, it’s quietly nagging at me that Olivia is still busy outside with someone who probably didn’t land that moniker without good reason.
“Dipshit comes around more than we’d like.” Hepburn eyes me like she’s reading my insides. “Not to worry though. He’s not anything Heartbreaker can’t handle.” Maybe she was reading them.
“You’ll notice we don’t call him ‘Badass’ or ‘Beast’,” Johnny Bravo adds, laughing at her own joke.
“Who do we call Beast?” The sound of her voice pulls at my entire body in a way that’s almost magnetic.
“Oh, those two dingbats were just filling in your boyfriend about Dipshit.” Sketch sums up the previous conversation for Liv without even looking up from her work.
“It was sweet. He was worried about you,” a deep voice follows hers and I suddenly become awkwardly aware of the man Sketch is obviously tattooing. Somehow I’d allowed myself to have the mistaken impression that I was alone with these girls. Seems stupid now. I knew she was working on someone. Out of sight out of mind now means something completely different to me.
Meanwhile, Liv has reached the front desk and she’s taking turns frowning at each of us.
“Fucking awesome.” She glares at Johnny Bravo who throws up her hands, professing her innocence.
“Why the hell do I always get blamed for everything around here?”
Hepburn simpers, but Liv turns on her next. “Don’t even try that sweet girly bullshit, Princess. We all know you’re the nosy one. She might have blabbed, but I’d put down money you’re the one who started the damn conversation to begin with.”
; Hepburn, or, Princess, glances down at her empty wrist. “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got an appointment to prep for.” She grins widely before she hurries off, dragging Johnny Bravo behind her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Apparently it’s my turn now.
“Um…nothing. It’s just…I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that.” I thought the blonde was scary, but now I’m starting to think she learned her brassy ways from Liv.
“Lucas, nearly every one of our previous interactions over the years have been at your parents’ house. I value their friendship and respect their boundaries, but this is my shop, and here, there are no boundaries.”
I smile, finally having heard something I like. “I can work with no boundaries. Actually, that’ll really help.”
Her stern expression crashes and there’s a brief moment as surrender flashes in her eyes. Then she recovers. “Doubt it.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Heartbreaker
After dealing with Marcus and his bullshit, the last thing I was expecting was to walk in and find the sight of another man pleasant, but here we are. The worst part of it is, I’m actually sort of happy to see him. Right now. Right after dealing with Marcus and his bullshit. Lucas left a lingering feeling of safety in his wake after he spent the night with me five years ago, holding me, keeping me from losing my mind and putting all the pieces back in place so I could get up the next day and do what needed to be done. Including this shop. I owe him. I knew this, but somehow it hasn’t fully sunk in to what extent until this very moment, seeing him here, in this business he helped me build. The business he named.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking.
“Thanks.”
His expression is warm, but serious when he locks his eyes on mine. “I knew you could do it, you know.”
I nod. “I do,” I admit as quietly as humanly possible. No one, not even Sketch, knows the role he played in getting me here, “but I’m guessing you came for more than a tour of the new shop.”